9
June 10th, 2025
Floor 51, Stoneshore Castle
As the light from the Teleport Crystal faded around him to be replaced with the pleasant morning sun and a colorful flower field, Israel blinked in surprise.
"It's beautiful here."
Sara nodded beside him. "It really is. I remember being quite disheartened when the wagons and tents of the Laughing Coffin camp trampled this field. By the time we moved on a few days later, the whole place was just mud and tracks. I'm glad the flowers grew back."
Israel bent down and ran his hand over the lovely, delicate flowers. The gentle field seemed to be home to hundreds of different species, so dense and varied were the colors and designs. A very particular airy, lightly sweet scent wafted up to greet him, reminding him- quite unexpectedly- of the scent of Naomi's hair.
He decided he liked this place very much.
"What are you smiling about?"
He glanced up to see Sara smiling herself as she looked down at him, quietly observing.
He picked a handful of the flowers and stood up. "Nothing. I just like this area. Would it be alright if I try to plant a few of these in the flower bed out back?"
Sara gave a pleased nod. "Of course. Always room for a few more- especially if they make my husband smile like that."
Israel put the handful of blooms into his inventory, then brushed his hands off on his travel pants and looked around.
"Right, where's this castle?"
Rather than answer, Sara grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face the other way.
The fortress, though small by regular standards, towered up into the air just behind them. The flower field went right up to the edge of the greying, vine covered walls, and in some places followed those vines up. Large bunches of moss clung to the tops of the crumbling battlements, and here and there piles of debris were all that remained of some of the guard towers. The wall, if it could still be called one, was circular and looked like it wrapped all the way around the single, solitary keep in the middle. It was in even worse shape than the walls, and Israel wondered how it was still standing.
Yet, despite its age and condition, the place looked easy enough to secure and defend with enough swords. Plus, it was in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest town being miles away.
"I can see why PoH chose this as one of his camps," Israel said as he craned his neck to get a look at the top of the keep tower. "But I'm surprised I didn't know this place."
"There were hundreds of camp locations we cycled through back then," Sara replied. "I highly doubt you would have found them all."
"I located quite a few…but you're probably right." Israel caught sight of a tiny glass window at the top of the tower. He lost focus on it as memories of stalking Laughing Coffin scouts back to their temporary base, and stealthily moving from tree to tree in the dead of night while counting sentries, all came back to him as if from a dream.
"A long time ago, that."
Sara nodded without looking at him. He guessed that she too was doing a bit of reminiscing.
"A long time ago, indeed."
They both stared in silence at the ruined castle for a moment while the sweet smelling breeze whisked through the flower field around them, making the multi colored petals dance.
Without shifting his gaze, Israel took Sara's hand.
She squeezed his in return.
No matter how many years go by, the past never really goes away.
Israel inhaled deeply, breathing in the light, flowery scent that brought a small piece of Naomi back to vivid life for him, even if for just a moment. He could almost see her special smile.
And sometimes, that's not a bad thing.
They spent the next hour skirting the crumbling Stoneshore Castle and wandering through a vast, open plain of rolling hills and scattered trees on the way to their destination. It was impossible to miss: two truly massive mountain ranges could be seen soaring high into the sky just ahead, their peaks snow capped and often hidden behind puffy white clouds. The ranges ran parallel to each other on their way north, and it was in between these two masses of nature that the valley was nestled.
When they were further away and could see more, Israel had been surprised to observe just how fertile and green the valley was. A few rivers flowed down from the mountains- mere squiggles of blue from the distance he had spotted them- and flowed through the valley sides for most of the distance. There had also been a town, barely visible from so far, that rested just within the valley mouth.
Israel wondered if there would be more villages the further in they got.
There were no roads around this part of the Floor, so they had to trudge through the fields and up and over the hills, which slowed them a bit and took more work, but he didn't mind, and he knew she didn't either. Traveling along an endless path was fun and all, but they were used to the hard hiking required to see nature's most beautiful, well hidden sights.
It was around noon by the time they reached the valley mouth, and here the town that had been only a speck from Stoneshore Castle rose up atop a hill to dominate the entrance into the valley. It was a large, well off town, with several hundred wood and stone buildings of varying sizes, a winding road that ran in circles down the steep slopes of the hill on which it perched, a dark cloud of smoke from a hundred chimneys, and the distant sound of hustle and bustle from a busy market square.
"Feel like passing through?" Israel asked Sara.
She shook her head and pointed off to the left. "The ground is relatively flat over there. Quicker to go around."
They skirted the town and veered left, making for the narrow dip in the earth between the hilltop town and the base of the huge mountains soaring far above. It took about twenty minutes to completely make it through, but just before they could step up onto the valley slope and continue moving with the town behind them, they stumbled on a large cemetery. And an old one at that.
Probably built by the townspeople.
As they made their way past the first rows of crumbled and vine covered graves in a straight shot forward, Israel noticed a thick fog begin to settle over the whole place. Twisted, gnarled trees without boughs or branches littered the area, making the cemetery seem even more oppressive.
And then they heard the rattle of bones and the muffled sound of digging all around them.
Israel pulled out his falchion at the same time as Sara reached in and grabbed two different colored potions, one in each hand. Neither of them slowed down.
"Maybe we should've gone through the town," Israel joked as he equipped the Fist of Fariel.
Before Sara could reply, the ground around the gravestones nearest them started caving in on itself, and a moment later, a half dozen skeletons climbed out onto the surface, crude weapons in hand and their bones stained yellow.
Israel darted forward on the balls of his feet, closed the distance with the nearest skeleton, and hacked from shoulder to hip with a heavy overhead swing of the falchion. The ancient shoulder bone and rib cage crunched beneath the impact, and the whole skeleton immediately shattered apart. Spinning around on his forward momentum, Israel deflected a rusty dagger from the next mob and quickly grabbed its skull in his armored fist.
One forceful squeeze, and the red eyed skull imploded between his steel covered fingers. Pixelated shards from both dead mobs glittered in the air around him.
Three more skeletons charged him with woodsman's axes on his left, but before he could turn to kill them, a Firebomb potion hit the ground in front of them. Israel shielded his eyes with his sword arm as bright flames roared to life all around where the potion had landed, engulfing the three monsters in a small inferno that melted their bones in seconds.
Only a few pixelated shards made it out of the fire.
"On your right," Sara warned above the roaring flames.
Israel turned just in time to see a taller, meaner skeleton armed with a great scythe swing the dangerous weapon at his head.
Raising his falchion, he blocked the blow, then dropped to a knee, closed his armored fist, and punched the big skeleton square in the kneecap. The monster's left leg shattered apart, and it plummeted forward towards the ground. As it fell, it tried to bring the scythe down in an overhead attack, but Israel easily sidestepped out of harm's way, brought his falchion up, and planted it in the skeleton's skull as soon as it hit the ground.
Israel waved away the tiny shards surrounding him and was about to sheathe his sword when he saw Sara battling her own scythe wielding skeleton leader.
It swung the long handled weapon at her viciously, but she jumped back several feet and quickly hurled what looked like a blinding potion at its face. To Israel's surprise, the potion instead turned out to be some sort of pressurized concussive bomb, for it created a blast of force that shattered the second scythe wielder's bones like glass and sent the pieces flying back several feet before they dissolved into yet more pixelated shards.
EXP Gained:
1,458
Israel swiped the post battle message out of his field of vision and walked up to her while sheathing his new falchion.
"Where'd he come from?"
Sara pointed back over her shoulder the way they had come.
"Sneaky thing must have been running after us from an earlier grave. I didn't hear him until he was right behind me."
"I didn't hear mine at all. Thanks for the warning back there." Israel shook his head. "I know they're rare, but I hate how some mobs are immune to Detection. Makes me almost miss fighting real people." He gestured at the shards floating away in the breeze. "What'd you use against it? Something new?"
She shook her head. "No, just an enhanced knockback potion. The blast is highly effective against fragile targets like skeletons."
More digging sounds started rising up around them, and they quickly went back to back as a dozen more skeletons began clawing their way out of their graves.
"Fast respawn," Israel observed. "We should move out of here quickly."
They took the group of monsters out speedily this time, with Sara stunning and blinding them while he closed in to crush the immobilized enemies with sword and fist. As soon as they were done, they moved on. Unfortunately, more skeletons rose everywhere they went, slowing their progress and forcing them to fight. By the time they reached the end of the dreary, oppressive cemetery, nearly half an hour had passed, all of it filled with tedious combat.
"Sorry," Sara said between breaths as they paused for a quick break. "We should've gone through the town like you said."
"No worries, we still have plenty of time." Israel shook out his sword hand. "Nothing like a bit of practice, anyway. I've been getting rusty."
"How's your shoulder?"
He shrugged and rolled his arm, holding back a wince as he waited for the pain to return.
It didn't.
"Fine for now. Hopefully it stays that way."
"If it does start to hurt again, let me know, alright?" She locked eyes with him. "Immediately. I want to know immediately."
Israel smiled in spite of himself. Though he didn't want her to have to worry about him, to be a burden on her, his more shameless side couldn't help but feel warm and happy when she expressed such concern for his well being.
"Don't you try to charm your way out of this with a cute grin." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You'll let me know."
"I'll let you know. Promise."
Satisfied, Sara continued on her way, leaving the creepy cemetery behind them.
Now within the valley, they began the real trek- marching miles and miles over fields, green meadows, and rolling hills as the towering, ice capped mountains walled them in on either side. Packs of mobs roamed the sparse environment- Wild Wolves, Giant Centipedes, and the odd Hill Troll here and there. Israel and Sara tried to avoid them, but more often than not they were forced to fight when enemy aggro caught onto them.
It was taxing to have to fight so much, but the battles weren't too difficult, and thanks to Sara's crowd control capabilities, Israel rarely had to do much more than cut down a stunned or otherwise immobilized enemy.
It sure is nice having her by my side.
Israel watched with pride as she blinded a group of wolves with a perfectly thrown potion before spinning around, the skirt of her black dress swirling out around her long, smooth legs. As she spun, she retrieved another potion vial from her satchel and tossed it at the feet of the blinded wolves. A bright flash lit up the field, and a second later, the pack of mobs was nothing more then ash on the ground.
Finishing off the injured pack leader he was facing with a quick lunge through the heart, Israel sheathed his falchion and fell back in beside her.
Hours went by, the sun cresting its peak and falling slowly down behind the looming mountains, before they finally found a road. Badly paved and worn, the path was nonetheless a welcome respite from trudging over hills. They discovered a solitary fig tree stooped over a bend in the road and stopped to rest.
Israel pulled out the bread and cheese and they leaned back against the tree to eat.
"Very peaceful out here," Sara said, glancing around at the valley and the mountains containing it as she massaged her ankles and thighs.
Israel nodded, chewing on a chunk of bread. "Except of course for all the mobs."
"Very annoying," she agreed. "I'm tired and sore already. I feel like I'm out of shape these days. My legs burn." She cast a sidelong glance at him. "Rub them for me later?"
"Promise to rub mine after, and you got yourself a deal."
"That's not very chivalrous."
"I yearn for true gender equality."
She chuckled before leaning forward on her knees and planting a kiss on his lips. "Deal."
They spent a few minutes enjoying the landscape, but eventually urged themselves up when clouds began to form rapidly across the afternoon sky, darkening the sun.
Sara glanced nervously up as they walked. "I hope those aren't rain clouds."
Israel studied the clouds a moment. "They're not, don't worry."
"How can you tell?"
"If they were rain clouds they would be darker, heavier." He pointed at one, a long, fat cloud with grey streaks. "These are too light, too airy. It probably won't rain until tomorrow."
Not a minute later, thunder cracked overhead and the sky split above them, letting loose an immediate deluge of annoyingly epic proportions. Both of them were soaked through at once, their hair plastered to their faces and their clothes clinging to their skin.
Sara cleared her throat as they walked in silence through the downpour.
"So about what you were just saying-"
"Not another word."
…
Vivienne raised her spear.
Beside her, Jae paused and drew in an expectant breath.
The weapon was heavy, felt clumsy and off balance compared to a sword, but she was strong. She compensated the awkward feeling with raw strength from her sword arm, drawing back the spear until its blade was almost touching her cheek.
She stiffened, breathed out, and…
Another spear sailed through the trees off to the right with perfect trajectory. The boar grunted and lifted its head in alarm, but it was too late. It died where it stood, exploding into a thousand pixelated shards. The echo of a squeal faded within the forest.
Vivienne's cheeks heated, but she kept herself in check.
"Avari," Jae muttered. "Didn't you see? Vivienne was about to make her throw."
Avari shrugged as she emerged from the treeline and picked up the raw meat that had dropped as loot.
"I didn't realize we were taking turns." She straightened the huge greatsword sheathed at her back, never once looking or speaking to Vivienne. "Thought we were just trying to grab food."
"What is-"
Vivienne stopped Jae with a look.
There was no point arguing about things when there was an underlying cause. That Avari was still upset was obvious. Petty and stupid and obvious.
Jae frowned at her.
"She shouldn't be acting-"
"Let her act. Come on."
They continued on through the pine scented trees, their footfalls muffled by a carpet of lush green moss that had overtaken the forest floor. Shafts of afternoon sun spilled through the green boughs like golden beams, lighting up the glossy leaves that dangled from low hanging branches. It was beautiful in the woods south of the Farmhouse. They didn't come here often enough.
Such a shame it was all ruined by Avari's drama.
Can you blame her, though? She has a right to look down at you. They all do.
She peeked a glance at Jae from the corner of her sight. He was handsome as ever, his broad shoulders and thick brown hair and stubble working well with the surroundings to make him appear a hardy woodsman out for a stroll. His wondrous amber eyes betrayed no hint of disgust or anger. But that didn't mean anything.
What if he was just as angry with her as Avari? It would certainly be in his character to hide it for her sake. To keep her 'happy.'
Her heart sank at the very thought.
Stop dwelling on it.
She focused on improving her forest walking to keep her thoughts from darkening further. Israel's long winded lessons on how to move quietly and unseen through trees were hardly enticing thoughts though, and failed to hold her attention for long.
They found a deer after a long, silent while. Jae motioned for them to get around it in a triangle in case his spear missed. Avari moved wordlessly off to the right, and Vivienne mirrored her on the left. Avari scowled the second their eyes met.
Vivienne's grip on her spear tightened.
Why does she have to behave like this?
One of them must have made too much noise, for the deer reared its antlered head in alarm. No one moved.
Jae met her eyes. She could almost hear his words in her mind, his intention. He wanted her to take the shot.
He dipped his chin in the deer's direction and offered a small smile. He was always so handsome when he smiled.
Vivienne nodded her thanks and raised the spear again. She wanted to get good at this, even if the spear would never be her weapon of choice.
Again Avari threw hers first, again it struck the mark perfectly, transfixing the deer's heart. The beast exploded into shards.
Viviene's blood boiled over all at once.
"What is your problem, Avari?!" She closed the distance between them with quick, wide strides. "Hm?"
Avari scoffed and turned away. "Calm down. Not my fault you take too long to aim and throw."
Vivienne grabbed her shoulder with more force than intended. Avari's bangs whipped around and she took a step back in surprise, only to come back twice as fast with rage twisted into her expression.
"So now you think you can push people around too, is that it? You can just do whatever you want, yes?"
Avari got in her face aggressively. Vivienne didn't back down. Heat was swirling in her cheeks and pent up frustration was rapidly spinning out of control.
"Don't even start, Avari. You've been acting like a spoiled child for days now. Giving me the cold shoulder? Really? How-"
"Don't mock me, Viv, or I swear I'll-"
"Both of you stop!" Jae shouted.
His strong, commanding voice echoed throughout the wood, scattering birds and squirrels alike.
He looked at Avari and crossed his arms. "What is this about? I sincerely hope you have a good reason."
Avari laughed bitterly. "Or what? You'll arrest me? Banish me from the group?"
"Would you stop being ridiculous and just explain to Vivienne what-"
"Stop acting ignorant, Jae. It doesn't suit you."
She spun on her heels and stormed off through the trees. Just before she disappeared, Vivinene could've sworn she saw regret on the woman's face.
Silence fell.
Jae leaned on his hunting spear and sighed. "Viv, you didn't exactly help de-escalate the situation."
"Are you angry with me too?"
He puzzled at her. "What?"
"Please don't lie to me or avoid the subject, Jae." Vivienne blinked the hot tears from her eyes.
Jae must have seen them too, for he immediately dropped the spear and moved to embrace her.
"Vivienne-"
She stepped away from him. "Jae please. Just talk to me. Tell me the truth."
Growing concern and worry marred his strong, handsome face.
"Of course I'm not angry at you. Why would I be? I love-"
"You know as well as I that this is about Midnight." Vivienne's throat tightened, but she refused to let her voice waver. "This is about what I did."
Jae moved in to hug her again, and again she backed away. His expression was emotional, pained, loving. But also hesitant.
"About what you did? You saved a human being's life. What is so horrifically evil about that?"
"Then why have you been acting off, too?"
His mouth worked, searching for words.
Vivienne was unable to suppress the tears any longer. They flowed down her cheeks like waterworks.
"I'm sorry, alright? I-"
"No." Jae's voice gained resolve. "Don't ever be sorry for showing goodness. For showing mercy." He took her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. His touch was warm and kind.
He pressed his head to hers. "Avari is angry because she couldn't show the same mercy to the red players that day. But it's not anger towards you. It's anger towards herself. Can't you see?"
Vivienne blinked. "I…"
"And I…" his voice faltered. He cleared his throat. "I'm not angry. That's no lie. I was never angry. Just…" he broke off again and laughed bitterly. "Why is it so hard to explain? I felt...I feel...envy." his watery eyes met her own. "That you could do something so good. And I could not. The thought never even crossed my mind. I just killed and killed. From the beginning to the end. I killed and killed."
New pain wracked her heart, far worse than any from the moment previous. This was pain from knowing Jae was hurting. Her husband. The man she loved.
"Jae," she whispered. "You took them prisoner, remember? You accepted their surrender. You spared them."
He scoffed. "Only after the fighting was done. After so many had died. You're better than me, Viv. You always were."
She shook her head and kissed him. "No you fool. I'm just a soldier. Always have been. You're the hero."
"I hate when people call me that."
"I know you do."
He wiped the tears from her face with the most delicate, gentle touch. His eyes were so close, so profound.
He hesitated. "Why didn't you tell me you had let her go? You could've...I wouldn't have…"
"I know." She wiped his tears as softly as her fingers would allow. "I know. I guess I just didn't want to bring shame to you as your wife. Didn't want the army to react like Avari has been reacting. Because then it might've carried over to you. I love you."
"I love you. And I am proud of you for what you did. Midnight is alive and starting anew in the real world. Who knows how many lives she might alter for the better in the years to come? How many she might create? What she might accomplish?"
Vivienne kissed him. Jae returned it with a tender hug, enveloping her in the safety of his strong arms.
Did she feel better now? Worse?
Will we ever be able to fully recover from the Battle of Brakrun?
…
"Now!" Israel shouted.
The Stone Swordsman spun around faster than thought, its rock encrusted sword slashing through the raindrops towards him. Just before it made contact, a glass jar smashed against the monster's side and erupted into an explosion of light fractals.
Israel tore his eyes away from the worst of it, but he was still left half blinded for a moment, as if he had just stared into the sun.
The Stone Swordsman staggered awkwardly and slashed at the air, then brought its huge sword down in an overhead blow directly where he was standing. Israel sidestepped to the side with little effort- the attack was half hearted and off balance thanks to the Blinding potion- and counterattacked, cleaving his way through the jagged chunks of rock armor still clinging to the Mini Boss' chest. The rock gave way with an ear splitting creak, but his falchion also cracked midway up the blade.
Can't slow down now.
More potions crashed into the Stone Swordsman's face and side, showering it in smoky liquids and shards of glass before debuff after debuff was applied. It was Stunned, then Staggered, then Poisoned, then Blinded again, and each time Israel seized the moment to deliver more crippling wounds to its thick coat of rock armor. Finally the chestpiece collapsed into a pile of rubble, and he dove in for the kill. Without its tanky armor, its health bar was laughable.
The Mini Boss saw him coming and swung. Israel parried the blow with minimal force, for his falchion couldn't take much more. It attacked him again, and again he deflected, this time countering with a wide slash that lopped off a metallic arm. The Stone Swordsman shuddered in surprise. Smoke rose in plumes from its rock covered face.
Israel lunged forward and stabbed it through the knee, ducked a wild swing, and tore his sword out through the left side of its leg to sever the entire rocky limb. Rocks and gravel spilled out as the leg crumbled, and the Stone Swordsman tottered in disarray. One more thrust through the exposed chest would have ended it, but in that instant the creature brought its stone sword down in one last desperate strike. The weapon was moving fast, so Israel backpedalled and raised the falchion to block.
The sword took the hit head on and stopped it, then cracked and shattered apart into tiny shards.
Damnit. I just got that thing.
Another potion soared over his head before the Stone Swordsman could attack again, shattering dead in the center of its exposed grey chest. Black liquid smoked and scorched the area of impact, then slowly ate away at everything until the being's entire front half withered away. The Stone Swordsman quaked in its destroyed armor, exhaled its last bout of steam, and crumpled apart into dust.
Israel sucked in a breath of air and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"That thing took an obnoxiously long time dying. I hate tanks."
Sara stepped up beside him, her face as tired as he felt. Rainwater dripped down her wet mass of ashen hair and onto her face.
"This quest is proving to be quite the slog."
"Agreed, and not a very fun one at that. And now I have to explain to Vivienne why I broke her falchion within a day of borrowing it."
"I doubt she'll mind. She had dozens of old swords. How's your arm?"
He shook it out to get the blood flowing. "Sore. Each blow from that rock sword hit like Jae's staff when he's pissed off. Still feeling the vibrations."
Sara looked around and pointed at a small outcropping of stone shielded from the incessant rain. "Come on, I can give you something for it, but not in this damned rain."
"What if it respawns?"
She frowned at him. "Why would it? Bosses aren't supposed to come back."
"It was part of your quest. Those types often respawn."
"Ah. True."
She shivered. Her black dress was soaked and clinging to her, and her satchel looked to be digging painfully into her shoulder by now, though she wasn't showing it.
The ruins around them revealed nothing on where to progress from here, and offered little shelter in which to build a small camp. The rain was about to get worse judging by the clouds coming in, and the last red beams of dusk were rapidly dwindling into darkness.
Israel gestured back over his shoulder. "Want to head back?"
Sara shook her head at once. "We just spent all day getting to this point. We haven't come across any new Teleport Gates since we started. I'm not about to do all that trekking and fighting over again."
"You're cold and tired, Sara. And so am I. Night is nearly on us. I don't want to lose all this progress either, but-"
"What if we backtrack to that inn by the crossroads?" she asked. "Stay there for the night?"
"Back in the valley?"
She nodded. "Mhm. Can't be more than two, three miles back. We stay there for the night, get some rest out of this shitty weather, and then come right back to it tomorrow morning."
It wasn't a bad idea. In fact, it definitely saved time.
Israel shrugged. "Sounds like a plan. He'll be respawned for sure, but we might be able to go around Captain Stonehenge here with better light to see the ruins. Let's remember to message the others once we're in a warm bed though. No point worrying them."
"Agreed."
Warm, smokey air filtered out in a wave when Israel opened the door to the Broken Gate Inn, immediately warming his and Sara's wet skin and clothes. He held the door for her, ignoring the painful vibrations still shooting up his sword arm. He didn't have the energy to draw the pain into himself right now. He just wanted sleep. He was so tired a dull headache was already making itself known.
Despite dusk usually being the prime time for taverns, the inn was dead and quiet as they approached the counter. A small fire crackled at the heart, with a rusty sword hanging above it on the mantle. Two exhausted NPCs, wagon drivers judging by their long cloaks and steel spurred boots, were dozing off at a corner table- the only patrons in the entire place. A thin, middle aged woman was working behind the counter, backs to them. A few empty mugs and glasses littered the countertop, and at its center on a small pedestal sat a small statuette with wings and the striking features of the Archangel Alara.
Israel pointed at it.
"Looks just like her."
Sara smiled and nodded, but before she could reply, the frail barkeep jumped and spun around with a smile.
"Oy, me, gave me quite the-"
Her smile withered as she took them in. Or, more accurately, the tiny green player icons floating above their heads.
"What the hell do ye want?"
Israel frowned. "Is that any way to treat customers? Looks like you could use some."
Sara elbowed him aside and offered a kind, sincere smile to the NPC woman.
"Just looking for some sleep and shelter from the rain. And dinner too if you provide any. We'll pay well."
The barkeep didn't perk up at Sara's kindness. Instead her scowl seemed to only deepen.
"Didn't prepare any dinner. No customers, see."
Israel crossed his arms. "I can see why-"
Sara glowered at him until he shut up, then returned her attention to the woman.
"That's fine. Just some sleep then. May we rent out a room?"
The woman hesitated for a good long while.
"Two hundred col. Up front."
Sara fished around in her satchel and provided the coin. "There you are. Thank you."
"Names?"
"Sara and Israel."
She eyed them both with wary suspicion, like they were criminals who might rob her at any moment. Her hand dug around beneath the counter while she stared at them, then she threw down a small rust spotted key. Grime clung to the handle, so Israel snatched it up before Sara had to.
Sara thanked the scowling barkeep once more and had to ask for their room number before they could head off. The second they got inside, Israel scanned the room.
Let me guess. Cockroaches, spiderwebs, probably some mystery stains on the sheets.
He blinked in surprise.
The room wasn't half bad.
It wasn't exactly a five star tavern in the Town of Beginnings either, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless. The bed looked comfortable enough, the sheets were clean, and the floor, though creaky and disjointed, was clear of filth. A single window in the corner offered a small, dark glimpse of the dismal weather outside: heavy rain pounded against the windows, leaking in here and there, lightning flashed further down the valley, cutting through the darkness of the night for but a moment before fading again, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
All in all, the perfect way to make one appreciate being indoors.
Sara didn't bother locking the door. Just threw off her soaked dress, hung it up to dry on a small laundry line by the corner, and required herself in dry black undergarments. By the time Israel closed and locked the door behind them, she was crawling desperately under the blankets for warmth while holding her mass of wet white hair aside.
"Hurry up and get in here," she said. "These sheets are cold."
He followed her lead, stepping out of his wet boots and clothes, and dropping in beside her. The bedsheet sent a chill down his spine quickly followed by goosebumps. Sara seemed to notice immediately and corrected the discomfort by wrapping herself around him to give them both some warmth. He returned the gesture with a kiss and started massaging her hands and fingers to get them warm. Exhaustion finally began catching up to him now that he was laying down, and within minutes his eyelids were starting to droop.
"Better?" she asked after a time.
He nodded and yawned. "Better. Why were you so nice to her? She was cold as ice back there."
"I didn't have the patience. I just wanted to get into a bed. I think my strategy paid off, don't you? If I had left it up to you, we'd either still be out there bickering with her or out on our asses in the rain and dark."
"Good point. Thank you for keeping my nose out of trouble."
"No worries. I've gotten used to it."
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. They untangled themselves when the bed warmed up and settled into their respective sides. Israel stared at the wood and stone ceiling.
"Crazy isn't it? Not that long ago we were laying in a modern bed in the real world. Air conditioning, TV, the works."
Sara rolled over and stared at the ceiling along with him. "Crazy indeed. Can you keep a secret?"
"I can."
"I never much liked Jae and Viv's apartment."
He frowned and cast a glance her way. "Why not?"
"It was too neat. Too orderly. I prefer a bit of mess."
"Explains a lot."
She raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just that your side of the room- Farmhouse included- has always been a bit crowded."
She shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that. Adds character."
He laughed. "I love your character."
"Thank you. I happen to fancy yours a good bit too."
Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the pounding of the rain on the solitary window in the corner.
"Ah, almost forgot. Gotta message Jae."
Israel sat up and opened his menu, flipping through screens until he got to the Messages tab.
Long story short the quest is a bit of a grind. We haven't found any Teleport Gates around to checkpoint our progress so we're hunkering down on this Floor until morning. Message you back tomorrow when we've finished the quest. Everyone else back home?
A few moments passed before he got a response.
Sounds good. Stay safe and let us know if you want an assist tomorrow. Been itching to fight a final Boss again. David is the only one other than you two still out. Messaged me and Avari a bit ago that he'll be late back. Apparently he's decorating all of Garet for her birthday tomorrow.
"That's so sweet," Sara said while peeking at the message beside him.
Israel struggled to send one last reply to close out the short conversation, then closed his menu and let his heavy eyes close. Sara kissed him goodnight and turned away, and darkness soon enveloped him.
The first rays of predawn sun had only just begun to seep through the shuttered window in the corner of the cozy tavern room when Israel's hunger woke him.
His left arm was sore, and his head still throbbed a little from the fight the day before, but it was undeniable that the full night's rest had helped a great deal. On top of that, his spirits had been revived; he was refreshed and ready to take on the final stretch of the quest- albeit after a solid breakfast. He was famished.
Sara was a portrait come to life beside him, with her thick mane of gorgeous ashen hair spread out just so across the pillow all around her beautiful face. She was sleeping peacefully beneath the blankets, so he was careful not to wake her as he got up.
The floorboards creaked slightly beneath his feet, not loudly, but enough to make him put in the effort not to shift his weight while strapping on his brown leather boots. They were still wet, but that was no surprise. They had been thoroughly soaked the night before. The rest of his travel clothes were mostly dry, so he dressed quickly.
After taking a moment to stretch and sweep his unruly blonde hair back out of his face and into some semblance of order, he stepped out, paused just long enough for a final glance back at the sleeping beauty bundled up in the bed, and then closed the door behind him.
He was greeted almost at once by the sweet and smoky aroma of spit roasted pheasant marinated in something sugary, possibly a winterberry glaze. Was food supposed to be served at this time of day? No matter. Why question a good thing? His mouth was already beginning to water, and with each step he took down the short hall towards the tavern proper, his hunger only grew.
By the time he rounded the corner and entered the dim light of the dining hall, visions of roasted pheasant were dancing so rapidly around him that he nearly didn't notice just how many NPC's were already gathered inside...and that every single one of them paused the moment he walked in. The place was packed.
Israel paused and glanced over at one of the open windows to confirm the time. This many tavern goers awake already? It seemed a little off somehow. Yet the truth was there for him to see: it wasn't yet dawn.
"Master Israel!" the female innkeeper exclaimed from behind the bar counter. "You too, eh? Seems the whole Floor is up early this morning. What can I get ye? Something to drink, mayhaps?"
His hunger returned at once, blotting out all other thoughts. Israel turned away from the tavern full of NPC's- all of whom seemed to have already forgotten about his existence- and shook his head as he started forward.
"No thank you, ma'am, no drinks. Do you serve breakfast this early?"
"Of course!" the thin woman declared. She threw a dirty rag over her shoulder, then pointed at the crackling fireplace at the back of the room in which a perfectly browned pheasant turned. "I always keep the spit going. Family policy. I'll cut you up a portion."
"Thank you, and one for my wife, please. She'll be waking up soon and I'd like to have some food ready for her."
The innkeeper smiled on her way over to the fireplace. "Not a problem, Master. Meet me at the bar, if you would."
Unable to go around due to the crowd, Israel was forced to squeeze passed two large, bull necked farmers between him and the counter. They didn't look at all happy about it, but didn't deem the intrusion important enough to halt their awkward conversation on whose prize sow was bigger. Their eyes, however, stayed on him for a long moment afterward.
Israel sat himself down on one of the high backed stools and waited. The air was stuffy and hot- a combination of the fireplace and the large number of people gathered in one room- but also carried with it a slight tenseness that he couldn't ignore. He shrugged it off, but it continued to bother him, like an itch that wouldn't go away.
He wrapped his knuckles atop the wooden surface of the counter and tried to mentally pinpoint what exactly was irking him. The fact that there were so many tavern goers at this hour had been a surprise, and thus could be a factor, but it made no sense to be concerned by such things. After all, who was he to know how busy early mornings were at taverns? Farmers and ferriers were known to get up at the crack of dawn, and it was perfectly reasonable that they would…
Israel blinked.
Farmers and ferriers lived in towns and villages, or in the countryside, not out here on the road. The Broken Gate Inn was isolated, a lone refuge deliberately set up on the crossroads in order to draw in travelers and merchants wandering the land. In fact, the closest town was several miles away.
The inn was suddenly far too quiet.
It wasn't silent, of course, not by any means, but the conversations going on throughout the room were strangely reserved, subdued, and monotone. Considering just how packed the place was, it was oddly off putting to not hear raucous laughter, heated arguments, or vigorous debates. Come to think of it, he hadn't even needed to raise his voice during his talk with the innkeeper, and that had been from across the room.
Israel blinked. The innkeeper.
The thin, gaunt faced woman was acting like a totally different person this morning. The night before, when he and Sara had first arrived in serious need of rest, she had made no effort to hide her irritation, or her disdain. Like more and more NPCs over the past week, she had been cold, bitter, and prickly. Yet now when he had come out for food at a positively ungodly hour, the woman was kind as a saint.
Icy suspicion rose within him, tensing his muscles. Israel straightened and turned in his stool. He leaned back, set his elbows atop the counter, and scanned the room properly for the first time.
The place was exactly what one would imagine when thinking of an inn; it was a warm, calm, sheltering environment, with modest walls, a thatched roof, and a wood and dirt floor in bad need of repair. Simple, crude tables filled the majority of the room, but were positioned in such a way that traffic could still flow freely from one end of the place to the other. Most of the tables were filled with men, and most of the men looked to be simple townsfolk. Strangely, not a soul among them was eating or drinking.
The fireplace crackled warmly in the center back wall, and above it, displayed proudly on a mantel, hung the old, rust spotted sword that was far more likely to have been looted from some corpse than to have been in the innkeeper's family for generations. In the corner was a small, out-of-the-way platform for the accommodation of local bards, minstrels, or other forms of entertainment. Sadly, no bard was present, and the platform was eerily silent.
He lingered on the NPC men gathered all around. Not a single one had the garb of travelers or wandering merchants. Not a single one looked weary from a night's travel, or sleepy from just having woken up. All of them were clearly villagers, hardy townsfolk who were accustomed to physical labor. Most were thus big, strong, and burly.
And, nearly all of them were armed, albeit crudely.
Handmade knives, wooden clubs and cudgels, workman's hammers, and a few logger's hatchets was all they had between them. Simple weapons, but no less effective when used by determined- or enraged- hands.
Time seemed to slow as they gave themselves away.
Beads of sweat trickled down several of their faces while they talked, unusual considering it wasn't hot enough for such a thing to occur naturally. Most didn't seem to notice. Others among them shot quick glances at him from time to time as they chatted, only to immediately avert their eyes when he met the looks with his own. A few shifted their weight nervously, while others fidgeted in obvious impatience.
With each passing second it was growing painfully clear just how many of them there were, and that they were all around him. Slowly, casually, he lowered an arm down to rest his hand on the pommel of his sword...only to find his sword wasn't there. Confusion rippled through his thoughts until the events of the day before came back in a rush: the mini-Boss he and Sara had taken down, and his new, temporary sword breaking in the process. Vivienne's sword, really.
Damnit.
"There we are, Master."
The skinny innkeeper set a plate of pheasant and a heel of bread down on the counter, forcing him back around. Beside it, she set down a second plate, more elegantly prepared, and with a fork and knife attached.
"For the lovely lady," the innkeep explained. She grabbed the dirty rag from off her shoulder and rubbed her hands with it. "And that'll be twenty Col. Can I get ye anything else, Master? I know ye said no drinks, but I really must recommend our homebrewed beer, it goes perfectly with roasted pheasant-"
Israel shook his head. There was a long knife strapped to the woman's belt. A long knife that hadn't been there the night before. He swept his gaze up in order to maintain the illusion of ignorance and smiled.
"No, thank you. I prefer not to drink before the start of a new day."
"Ahhh, wise as well as handsome. Your wife is a lucky woman."
She offered a smile of her own before turning to dry some dishes beneath the counter.
The tension in the air grew thicker.
Israel glanced down at his plate, all hunger forgotten. In its place, only one thought filled his being: Sara, still asleep in the room down the hall, was in danger.
How it was possible or why they were doing it no longer mattered: it was now perfectly clear that the NPCs had come here together from the nearest village over with the intent to murder him and Sara in their beds. The innkeeper had, no doubt, waited awhile to be sure they were asleep before riding to the village and telling the men they were at the inn. It had taken several hours for the bulk of the group to arrive, and it was clear by their nervousness that they must have stalled for a time, probably in order to wait for more men to show up. Numbers were, after all, a coward's only source of bravery.
They must have been nearly ready to move down the hall when he woke up and came out. That had caught them by surprise, thus explaining the brief moment of quiet shock from everyone gathered when he rounded the corner in search of food, as well as the pathetic attempt at looking natural even as they sat at an inn with no food or drinks to speak of.
The innkeeper had seen it too, and had provided distraction for them by quickly catering to him. Her changed persona had not been done deliberately. It was merely a result of her quick thinking, frayed thoughts, and attempting to be as calm and natural as possible while serving him.
Ignoring the countless new questions now springing into his thoughts as a result of discovering the truth, Israel instead focused his mind on what was about to happen, and what he was going to do. If they made it into the hall where the rooms were, Sara's life would be at risk.
As far as he was concerned, there was only one way forward.
He picked up the crust of bread, scooped up several chunks of meat, and took a big bite. The pheasant was underwhelming, and a bit dry, but he was no longer hungry enough to mind. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and took another bite. With his free hand, he opened his menu and scrolled through a few screens as casually as possible. When he found the Fist of Fariel, he equipped it at once, then closed the menu.
It was all he had, but it would have to do.
The polished steel gauntlet appeared immediately on his left arm, its familiar weight offering a moment of security as it covered his hand, wrist, and forearm up to the elbow, fitting like a second skin. Ignoring at least a dozen pairs of eyes on his back, he flexed his metal coated fingers, closed his fist, and began wrapping the tabletop with his knuckles once again.
With his other hand, he set down the heel of bread and leaned back.
"Before we begin," he said loudly from his seat, "would anyone like to leave? Now's your chance. You won't get another."
Several dozen chairs dragged suddenly across the crude floor as the men all rose to their feet, the need for pretense now gone.
Israel stayed seated.
"Our chance?" one of the burly farmers asked spitefully beside him. "How kind. Arrogant little prick."
"Fucking Players," another spat. "You lot are all the same: always think you're better than everyone else."
"You really think you can take us all?" a third man with a gravelly voice asked angrily. "You're hurt, don't even have a weapon on you. Seems to me your reputation has gone to your head."
Israel looked up at the innkeeper across the counter. All pretense was gone from her gaunt face as well. Rage flashed in her eyes. She drew her knife and clutched it tightly in response to his glare.
"You tell them that too?" he asked her. "That I came in here last night injured and without a sword?"
"Get up," she hissed. "Die on your feet like a man."
"As you wish." He stood, and then met her eyes with his darkest gaze. "Don't think I'll spare you because you're a woman. It might take a little while, but I'll get to you." He paused. "Also, since we're all being honest with each other now, I have to say, that pheasant was nowhere near worth twenty Col. I'd like my money back."
"Kill this fucking Player!" the woman spat. "And then his bitch after him!"
In a blink, every man in the tavern was moving.
Israel turned, closed his steel fist, and unleashed himself into the crowd.
And then the whole world went red.